


dama de noche don't grow around here

by MahagwayTheArcher



Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018), Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Drama & Romance, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied And/Or Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Relationship(s), Politics, Suspense, Trauma, Violence, War, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-07-27 04:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16211315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahagwayTheArcher/pseuds/MahagwayTheArcher
Summary: Goyo retreats to his rooms in Dagupan, only to find himself face to face with the ghost of the past bent on getting revenge for the death of Heneral Luna.Vicente just wants to do the right thing. Julian thinks he's always doing the right thing. Joven doesn't want to be blind to wrong things masking themselves as right things.And Sofia Valera? She is a hurricane.In the middle of unfolding events, a silent chaos ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral or Heneral Luna.  
> This is, in no way, a written piece that depicts the reality of Philippine history. It is only a fanfiction of the wonderful films based on the events of it.

Killing Manuel Bernal wasn’t easy.

Goyo was only half-relieved he wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger. But despite the fact that he'd done what he had to do, courtesy of President Emilio Aguinaldo's order and considering Jose Bernal has also been... taken care of, Manuel's shouts still ricocheted like a bullet in the young General’s head. Goyo could still hear the distinct slap of the older man's lips as they howled in despise and mockery, blood splattering across the floor of the dimly lit room. Goyo would never admit it, but he somehow understands why Vicente was so hesitant about torture methods, no matter how necessary they were.

How could Julian take it? Even revel in it?

And Angel's scream.

" _Kuya!_ "

Goyo stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. He allowed the fresh air at this side of the war to calm him. Evening wasn't far off. He did his duty. It was the right thing to do. There was no other choice.

There was no. Other. Choice.

Leaving Vicente and Julian to their own devices for the day, Goyo headed towards the house they were staying at. His quarters were near the President's – very much appropriate being the man's most favored General. Even though it was near Felicidad's.

He tried not to think about her. How she was faring. What she was doing at the moment. He tried to bury these things towards the back of his mind. It didn't do good to dwell in the past. Besides, he'd already set his eyes on the lady Remedios Nable Jose. It wasn't right to go back to a previous sweetheart when he was chasing for the hand of another woman.

Dagupan had been pleasant to him so far. Exciting and vibrant in its festivity and colors. The sunset was beautiful. The lake sparkled underneath the light of the dying morning. And although nothing could compare to the wonders of his and Julian's and Vicente's beloved Bulacan, the town was a sight for sore eyes in the middle of all the fighting.

Goyo fought back the rising anxiety of inevitable flashbacks before he could start shaking again. The tremors were happening more frequently these days, and he knew he had to get a grip before he could lose any sense of control he had left of his mind.

He reached his rooms, all the while greeting the maids that attended to the household, and opened the door to reveal a darkened chamber. He didn't remember closing the windows before he left. But then again, it didn't matter. Who would dare climb up the walls to steal from one of the youngest and most heroic Generals of the nation?

He closed the door behind him.

"Hello, Goyong."

The Boy General felt his blood run cold. He suddenly became frozen in his place, one hand reaching back to grab the pistol hanging securely by his hip. But something about the voice made him hesitant to draw and defend.

Because the voice was, undoubtedly, a _woman's_.

A spark of flame burst open inside the room, revealing the small frame of a girl not far from his age. She had a thin cigar pressed between her lips, fire searing the end of it as smoke began to rise from her nostrils and up towards the pitch black walls.

The name slipped out before he could stop it, "Sofia?" His eyebrows creased together in confusion and, admittedly, fright.

The girl looked at him from underneath long black lashes. From where she sat beside Goyo's own personal desk, it looked as if she'd owned the place.

Before Goyo could say another word or take even one step further, the lady smiled and gracefully puffed out a smoke ring. "Don't be surprised." She told him, drawling out the words in a lazy manner. "I'm only here to ask you a question."

Goyo could hardly bring himself to speak. His throat felt dry, as if saws were raking across bare skin and years of self-destruction.

Sofia Valera stared at him with cold dark eyes and said, "Did your president order the assassination of my General, Antonio Luna?"

At that moment, Goyo heard a click. His gaze flickered down and saw the glint of a pistol in the girl's dainty hand.

For the first time after a long while, Goyo, the Boy General, felt genuinely afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short first chapter. Tell me what you think! Comments and Kudos are appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral or Heneral Luna.  
> This is, in no way, a written piece that depicts the reality of Philippine history. It is only a fanfiction of the wonderful films based on the events of it.
> 
> NOTE: In this story, I assumed Vicente Enriquez is younger than Julian Del Pilar. I couldn't find much info about their age gaps. Do correct me if I am wrong, though!

Vicente would be lying if he said he wasn’t bent on ignoring Julian the rest of the day.

But Julian could sense discomfort, disturbance, and all negative feelings, particularly if they were caused by him, from a mile away. And when he catches a whiff of them, he follows the scent like a dog.

Hm, like a dog. Vicente allowed the thought to pass through. Two seconds, he told himself. He closed his eyes and remembered.

_Tahol, Goyo. Tahol!_

He was way past the point of throwing up whenever he recalls the things they’ve done in order to protect this country. In order to fight another day in this war. Sometimes, he thinks, he’s forgotten what it was all about. But he’d never tell anyone that. Julian would only get angry. And Goyo –

Lately, he was… becoming something Vicente no longer recognized.

Felicidad was right. She often was. Goyo was not who he used to be. And between the two of them, it was Vicente who was always by Goyo’s side. You’d think he wouldn’t notice any subtle changes in the General’s behavior. Except he did. Because the changes were never subtle.

They were never spoken of, either.

 “Vicente!” Julian called out from the other side of the plaza. The younger Colonel didn’t look back to acknowledge his friend.

Vicente knew where Julian had been. Goyo had ordered him to release Angel Bernal, and like the obedient older brother he was, he did what he was told.

But Vicente Enriquez knew Julian Del Pilar. The latter wouldn’t have done it without hurtling in a few punches and hurtful words at the child before untying him and pushing him off towards the nearest exit.

He was cruel like that. He was _always_ cruel.

Vicente’s hands curled into tight fists as the sounds of Julian’s footsteps drew nearer. “Vicente.” Julian tried to catch his attention once more. Finally, the younger Colonel stopped, drew in a breath, and turned around smoothly with the best poker face he could manage.

“Colonel.” Vicente greeted.

Julian rolled his eyes and leaned in, hands clasped against his knees from chasing down Vicente. “Are you mad? I think you’re mad. You’re looking at me with those I’m-Vicente-Enriquez-mad mad eyes. Like that one time I finished your morning coffee while you went outside to fix the clothesline.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Then again, you _did_ leave that cup on the table. Unattended.”

“What do you want?”

Julian frowned and straightened. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset about that stupid brat.”

“We murdered a man in front of his younger brother.” Vicente murmured under his breath and made a move to leave.

Julian grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to turn back around. They were almost nose to nose, the tension of the past few days’ killings building up in the singular space between them. “We executed a traitor upon the orders of our President, and that boy was related to _said_ traitor.” The taller and older colonel said through gritted teeth. “I don’t see the error of our decision.”

Vicente knew he had no argument that could sway Julian. It wasn’t just because the older Del Pilar was severely loyal to Aguinaldo, but because he’d never doubted their cause. He’d never asked the deeper questions. He was always so… rash and unguarded.

“I just…” Vicente began but stopped short when Julian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing.” He let out a loud exhale and gazed at the sun dipping beneath the horizon. “I’m just tired.”

Julian was quiet for a moment, tongue moving inside his cheek, before seeming to decide to forgive Vicente. “Yeah, I guess we all are.”

Vicente didn’t feel like pressing the issue any further. His eyes trailed off across the town until it landed on the house they were currently placed in. He noticed Goyo’s windows, closed and barred as if the General was somewhere inside, sitting on the edge of his bed. Thinking.

_About what, Goyong?_

“Julian.” He said. “Aren’t you ever worried about Goyong?”

“I’m worried about him all the time.” Julian said, one hand pressed casually against the hilt of his blade. “He’s my baby brother.”

“So don’t you think he’s… changing?”

“Changing?” Julian looked like he was genuinely thinking about it. “I’m sure he’s just trying to adjust to his gradual climb. He is, after all, The Eagle. Hero of – “

“Hero of Bulacan. I know.” Vicente said with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “But even heroes need time to rest. Let’s go check on him.”

Reaching the still open door of the house and feeling the tension between him and Julian disintegrate, Vicente stopped and crunched his nose when he caught the scent of something strong and familiar.

“Julian?” He called out softly.

“What is it – “ Julian stopped as well. “Do you smell that?”

Vicente looked back at Julian. “It smells just like – “

“A rose?”

“Sampaguita?” Vicente shook his head. “Is it me or does it remind you of – “

Both Colonels looked up when Goyo came bounding down the stairs, looking disheveled. His eyes were wide and alert. Vicente instinctively reached for his gun, but Goyo was suddenly so near him, he didn’t have time to draw it.

“Goyong, what’s – “ Vicente was cut off when Goyo embraced him, tight and trembling. He hesitated in shock before wrapping his arms around his friend and rubbing his back in small gentle circles. The Colonel hardly cared if anyone saw them and thought the action to be ‘unmanly’, but Julian still made a quick move of closing the doors behind them, barring them from outside view.

When Vicente finally managed to untangle himself from Goyo, he asked in a soothing tone, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Goyo looked at him in the eye. “Do you smell it?”

Julian and Vicente didn’t reply. Goyo pointed to the spot at their right, where a small wooden box laid open on one of the flower desks. Inside of it was a pouch. An incense pouch, to be exact, made of violet silk and thin rope.

Vicente knew only one person who carried that around.

Julian approached the box and took the pouch, surveying it in his large hand. “Is this… Sofia’s?” He asked, more curious than overwhelmed. Vicente saw the flicker of emotions on his face transcend through skin and bone. Confusion. Realization. Hope. Pain. “Was she here?” He tried to seem subtle but his eyes looked around.

“I haven’t seen her in two years.” Vicente said.

“None of us have.” Julian’s voice was lower than it usually was.

“Yes, it was Sofia.” Goyo said. “And she almost murdered me.” He walked over to his brother and snatched the pouch from his hands. Tucking the thing inside its box, Goyo slammed it shut. Vicente _felt_ that movement – felt it to the core of his body the way he would a hundred bullets hitting a barricade all at once.

“What?” Vicente barely whispered.

“Why?” Julian asked.

“Because,” Goyo breathed out, wiping a hand across his face. “She was one of Luna’s soldiers.”

Vicente and Julian stood there, jaws dropped in disbelief.

The smell of dead petals wafted through the air, even as Goyo kept a firm hand on the lid of the box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again for the short chapter.  
> Lengthier one ahead, if ever! Kudos and Comments are appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral or Heneral Luna.  
> This is, in no way, a written piece that depicts the reality of Philippine history. It is only a fanfiction of the wonderful films based on the events of it.
> 
> NOTE: Jose Enriquez appears in this chapter.

If there was one thing Julian was good at, it was hunting people down. Although if anyone were to ask him, he was good at many things. But that was beside the point. He was a hunter, and he was fucking proud of that.

“Before I send my men out to find her, what exactly does she look like?” Julian asked as he, his brother, and Vicente stood around the dinner table. He had ordered all the servants to tuck themselves in for the night and to lock their doors. Partly for their safety. Mostly because he wanted to discuss their plans privately.

Vicente looked at him as if he were an idiot. “Julian, this is Sofia. You know what she looks like.”

“True. But Goyong said she was one of Luna’s soldiers, and last time I checked, Sofia was a small lanky girl. Very hard to find with all of these stupid trees and tall houses around Dagupan.” Turning to Goyo, Julian asked, “Has she buffed up a bit? Did she wear a Baro’t Saya? Did she cut her hair? Maybe, a scar on her face?” He made a gesture of waving his hand in front of him.

“She was wearing a lady’s blouse. Cream, I think. And a maroon skirt?” Goyo shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “Her features were hard to tell. The room was dim. I couldn’t see her clearly.”

“Leave it to Goyo not to recognize a woman’s face when they’re alone in a dark room.” Julian remarked with an exasperated tone.

“Julian.” Vicente chided.

“Give me _something_ here, brother.” Julian placed a hand on Goyo’s shoulder.

“She… looked just about the same, Kuya.” Goyo said, sounding slightly frustrated, which sent an arrow of guilt right through Julian’s hardened heart. The older Colonel made sure not to show it, though. “I think she just looked angrier this time. More intense.”

“Angrier. More intense.” Julian noted with a murmur as he stared at the table. “Alright, so we’re looking for a young woman in her early twenties with a small build and an even smaller height. Wavy hair. Brown skin. Wide dark eyes. A taste for revenge.” He sighed. “I suppose we’ll have to make do with that.”

“Are we really going through with this, though?” Vicente asked.

The wheels in Julian’s mind stopped turning for a second. He looked at Vicente. “What do you mean?” He asked with a deadpan tone.

“What I mean is, are we seriously going to send out a search party for Sofia? As if she were some rabid dog?” Vicente glanced at the two of them. “She was our friend.”

Julian pressed both of his palms on the edge of the table, staring Vicente down with an intensity he no longer cared to subdue. “She was Luna’s soldier. She entered the General’s rooms with a pistol and an implied threat. And she escaped through the window, as per Goyong’s statement, without anybody noticing. She managed to do all of that with the addition of leaving an incense pouch to further accentuate her presence.” Vicente merely stared back, tight lipped. “I don’t care if she’s a woman. I will turn Dagupan inside out and back again to find her.”

The room was silent for approximately five seconds – so silent, an outsider could hear the heartbeat of every person within that house. Sleeping. Or stunned. Frightened and heartbroken, tense as a bow and begging for release.

Julian could see flashes of purple ribbons at the spot where all his memories reside.

He throws them out the window.

“Goyong.” He said, straightening himself. “Your call.”

Goyo, who seemed to regain his sense of control, crossed his arms over his chest and replied, “Search the whole town as well as the outskirts.”

Julian was an obedient older brother. Vicente had told him so many times. Sofia had, as well, back when they were younger.

Without another word, Julian Del Pillar grabbed his gun, hoisted it against his hip, and stepped out of the door as quietly as he could.

 

 

Julian deployed his men on all corners of Dagupan, but made a clear note of staying silent and vigilant. “I don’t want any of the people waking up at this hour because one son of a bitch or two accidentally tripped on a rock. Or something equally stupid. Stay as discrete as possible.”

His men searched the alleys between houses. They searched the stables where the horses were sleeping. They skewered through the nearby forests, scanning possible trails like broken twigs and footprints. But as the hours passed and the night deepened, they all came back one by one with no sight of the figure they were trying to find.

Julian knew his men weren’t stupid. He’d tracked down so many people throughout his military career. All three of the Bernal brothers. A handful of traitors. Escapees. He rarely failed. And so he knew he was right when he felt sure Sofia was still within the town. Although she had a reason to leave after threatening a General, he knew her enough to know she would stay.

Jose, Vicente’s cousin, was the soldier who approached him as the time ticked at four in the morning. “Kuya.” He said, addressing him not as Colonel. He was practically whispering. “Maybe we should just give up the search. What are your men doing in the middle of dawn, looking for a woman?”

Julian’s hand lightning slapped the boy across the face. “Puñeta naman, Jose.” He growled. “I know you’re younger than the rest of us. But surely you remember your Ate Sofia.”

“I met her five or six times, I suppose.” Jose scratched his head and shrugged. “She was pretty intimidating, but I didn’t know her enough to foresee what she could do. Not the way you do…” his voice trailed off when Julian gave him a withering glare.

A cold wind passed and Julian looked at his men, still searching or overlooking an area, as they shivered and complained about not getting enough sleep. He knew they were tired and that they were doubting whether he was still in his right mind, having them look for a lady at this hour.

Julian made sure none of them knew why he was looking for Sofia. He didn’t dodge their questions. He let them hit him and he retaliated with a stone wall chest, a bark of an insult, and a warning look that could kill.

Any of the three were enough to shut down their inquiries.

“All I remember about Ate Sofia,” Julian rolled his eyes and groaned. Sometimes, Jose didn’t know when to shut the fuck up. “Was that you loved her.”

Julian met the repressed emotions halfway, slammed them down against the dirt, and buried them underneath soil and fire. He wasn’t going to do this tonight. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he told Jose to go the fuck away before he decided to hang him by the nearest tree wearing nothing but a cotton camisa and sleeping shorts.

Jose did as he was told and scrammed.

Julian waited out until it was five thirty before he told his men to back down on the search for a while. Vicente was by his side when the sun began to rise, giving birth to an indigo sky and pinkish clouds. The moon was in its first quarter. A rooster hollered nearby.

“She was always hard to find.” Vicente murmured, perhaps remembering a certain instance in their youth. “The soldiers are talking, Julian.”

“About what?”

“Some of them came from our town in Bulacan.” Vicente replied, looking up at him but failing to catch his eye. “They know who Sofia Valera is. Many of them are saying it might be better if she remains unfound, never mind if she was truly seen in Dagupan.”

Julian smirked. “Let them tut like mother hens.”

“Colonel Del Pilar!” One of the soldiers called out, which struck a vein on Julian’s temple.

He whirled around. “I told you not to shout.”

The soldier paled and bowed. “Forgive me, Colonel. But we found someone who might know where the lady is.” He stepped aside and a middle-aged woman, probably one of the majordoma of some rich household, approached him.

“You are looking for a girl named Sofia?” She asked.

“Yes, Ginang.” Vicente answered. “Have you seen her? Given the description.”

The woman nodded. “She arrived in town a few days after General Goyo’s troops did. She lodged in an inn for some time. She looked like a well-off young lady, although she offered her services by concocting medicine and cooking food.”

Julian knew when to be polite. “Do you know where she is now?”

The woman, again, nodded. “She is currently working under the service of Doña Hilaria Aguinaldo and Señorita Felicidad as a handmaiden and a volunteer Red Cross.”

Julian felt his eyes widen. When he looked back at Vicente, the same horrified expression was plastered on his friend’s face.

Walking pass the woman, he barked for three soldiers to quickly hurry towards the President’s part of the house and arrest Sofia Valera.

As the men barged into the mansion, the first signs of sunlight pierced through Dagupan, marking the beginnings of the hours ruled by the day.

Julian felt as if the world was zeroing in on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally, I very much enjoyed writing in Julian's perspective. Looking forward to expanding that enjoyment with other characters as well. 
> 
> Get ready for the Aguinaldos in the next chapter, I suppose?
> 
> Kudos and Comments are much appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral or Heneral Luna.  
> This is, in no way, a written piece that depicts the reality of Philippine history. It is only a fanfiction of the wonderful films based on the events of it.
> 
> NOTE: I initially thought Vicente was older than Goyo based on how I perceived him in the film. However, I later found out he was actually younger than both Del Pilar brothers. He was around 19 during the movie. So I also had to make adjustments to Sofia's age in this fic. Sorry for the confusion!
> 
> Also, mentions of Andres Bonifacio and Emilio Jacinto.

Sofia was older than Vicente and younger than the Del Pilar brothers. Julian was her senior by four years and Goyo by only one. Although she’d only ever met the Enriquez boy after spending many of her formative years with the Del Pilar brothers.

They used to call her Piyang when they were kids.

Sofia, more often, when she reached pass sixteen.

And when the revolution finally burst into flame, she chose another name for herself.

Just like Goyo did.

_“Palayaw?"_

She remembered the sound of pointed pens scraping across thin parchment. Documents flying here and there, hiding between the thick material of ladies' tapis. Underneath skirts and panuelos.

_"Soro."_

She remembered the silhouette of Andres Bonifacio, walking past the room where the Katipuneras resided. Bursting in from the front door and coming out the back, a pistol and a bolo hanging on either side of his hips. She'd only seen his frame. His hair. She'd only heard the stories. And even as she served the revolution in close proximity with him and his wife, she wouldn't exactly say she truly knew the man.

But then again, he's gone. Another reason as to why she currently decided to infiltrate Aguinaldo's forces.

The Katipunan didn’t used to recruit women, but then they decided to allow female relatives and wives to join the fight. Later on, they realized they needed all the help they could get in order for the resistance to work. So despite Sofia's lower class background as well as the controversy that surrounded her mother, she enlisted.

Goyo had just finished studying. Julian and Vicente were already soldiers with the latter being a Colonel.

Expecting the four of them to be placed under a single troop, specifically Vicente's, was a mistake. 

Because Sofia's name was positioned under the leadership of Emilio Jacinto, Utak ng Katipunan.

If Sofia could close her eyes, given if the universe would ever let her, she could recall the way her friends despaired at the order.

The higher ups made sure the three Bulacan boys didn't know where she was being sent to. Which authority she was going to serve under. What hell she was going to face on some other part of the country, shooting bullets and drawing blood. Or risking her life concealing documents cross-country.

They didn't know she would be training as an agent almost directly underneath Andres Bonifacio. She didn't tell them, either. One of them would be sure to follow her.

Sofia remembered the dull pain of delivering the news to them.

The way Vicente's ragged breathing could be heard as the undercoat of his frustration, attempting to rationalize a reason as to why the Valera girl should be placed under his command.

The way Goyo, in all of his cool yet assertive manners, demanded the authorities to highly consider the Colonel Enriquez' request.

The way Julian, fire and rage, kicked a barrel out of his way as he barged into the nearest Katipunan headquarters and started cursing at the authorities for making an unreasonable decision of separating one Bulacan volunteer from a handful of others.

But the more the three young men insisted for her to stay, the more Sofia saw the determination in the eyes of the leaders to separate them. She knew Emilio Jacinto was an informant - that he knew who she was and where she came from and what she was possibly capable of. Whatever he said to Bonifacio, the father head listened. 

So when she received a telegram ordering her to answer the call of Andres Bonifacio, she did so without complaint.

And without a goodbye.

She tied a purple ribbon on the door knob of the Del Pilars and took the nearest carriage heading towards Morong. 

Sofia thought she'd never see her three friends again. 

At least, not this way.

Stepping out of the bedroom provided to her by the Aguinaldo family, she rubbed her eyes and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. They were all still in their sleeping wear when three soldiers came knocking in.

Standing at attention in front of the President Emilio Aguinaldo, who looked like he was ready to kill a man from being pulled out of his bed, one soldier stepped up and saluted. Doña Hilaria stood behind her husband, handsomely folding a night shawl over herself.

Señorita Felicidad stood near her brother and sister-in-law, visibly worried but calm in all of her pretty features. “What’s going on?” She asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.

One of the soldiers glanced at Sofia. She met it with a cool gaze. “An order from Colonel Julian Del Pilar, Señor Presidente – “

“Ruiz.” The young soldier was cut off when Julian Del Pilar climbed up the stairs in three effortless strides, a straw hat situated properly on his head.

Sofia quickly cast down her eyes. She refused to look at him lest her emotions betray her.

Julian saluted before the President. “Explain yourself, Colonel.”

“Señor Presidente, I apologize for disturbing your slumber.” He looked at Hilaria and Felicidad. “I would also like to extend this apology to the Ginang and Señorita Aguinaldo. However  - “

He stopped short when he looked at Sofia. They shared eye contact for half a second before she refocused her gaze on the President and his wife.

“However?” Aguinaldo urged with a tired sigh.

Sofia didn't need to look at Julian to know he'd thrown away any chance of catching her attention. He turned back to the President. “However, we are here to arrest the lady Sofia Valera for the crime of treason.”

Silence filled the room for what felt like an eternity. But, Sofia didn’t flinch.

She utterly refused to.

Aguinaldo turned to look at her with an unreadable expression. She made an act of shrugging and raising her eyebrows in nonchalance. “I am aware she was under Luna’s command.”

Julian looked from the President to Sofia then back again, and the girl had to purse her lips in the most demure manner just so she could fight off the need to bitterly smirk at the look on his face. “I see. But – “

“She has already sworn her allegiance to us, setting aside her past affiliations with Luna and the rest of his men.” The President continued, his voice implying that this was a waste of everyone's time. “As a sign of gratitude for her wise decision, I have placed her as a handmaiden, a Red Cross, and a guard in order to protect my wife and sister.”

Julian opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

“Leave us.” It was Vicente. Sofia's eyes flickered behind Julian and saw the familiar face of the boy she'd so dearly loved.

The three soldiers and the lingering servants quickly left.

“It is not my place to question your decision, Señor Presidente." Vicente's voice and manner has barely changed over the years. He was still smooth. Gentle. Polite. "However in this case, is it right to place a former soldier of Luna to protect your family?”

The Doña Hilaria finally spoke up, holding her head high with a confidence and intelligence only she could ever exude. "I trust her." Trumping that of her husband's soft spoken persona, Sofia thought. “She is efficient, effective, attentive, and highly skilled in both combat and survival strategy.” She looked back at Sofia and smiled. "Besides, what reason is there for you Bulacan boys to persecute your own?"

“I agree.” Felicidad followed, displaying a younger version of Hilaria’s commendable aura. “Sofia had always been good. I don't understand why you're not happy to see her.”

Sofia tried her best to look humble. "I believe I do, my lady." She said, not failing to notice the tension between her and Vicente and Julian, standing a few feet from each other. "I was once one of Luna's most trusted soldiers. I loved him like a father, I won't deny that. But I believe whoever had him killed will get the judgement they deserve from God. I must go on with my life and serve my country where I am most good at." She glanced at the Aguinaldos and felt a sense of triumph in the way Emilio fondly looked at her. "My loyalty is to the president."

 _Except I am God. And I will deliver this judgement_.

“I suppose the matter is closed, then.” The President told the two Colonels. Both of them looked as if they had no idea what on earth was happening. And to Sofia, they truly didn't. They won't see it coming. “The lady Sofia Valera will be staying and shall assist us further in this war. I will not have General Goyo’s troops harass any of Luna’s former soldiers, specifically those who have now sworn their loyalties to me. Am I understood?”

Julian looked like he was going to explode right then and there. Lucky for the two of them, Vicente went to the rescue. “Yes, Señor Presidente. We hope you will forgive us for this intrusion. We were unaware of the Señorita Sofia Valera’s recent servitude and were only thinking of your and your family’s safety.”

At this, Emilio Aguinaldo nodded. “Relax, boys.” He told them with a smile. “Enjoy the beauty of Dagupan. You are dismissed.”

Saluting in unison, Julian and Vicente respectfully kept their heads bowed as the president returned to his quarters with his wife. Felicidad squeezed Sofia’s hand before retreating to her rooms as well.

And then it was just the three of them, standing in the middle of the hall. Silent as nuns in a convent.

Vicente was the first to speak. "How are you?"

"Really, Enteng?" Julian sharply looked back at the younger Colonel, his voice barely above a harsh whisper. Turning to look at Sofia, he took a menacing step forward.

Sofia stayed where she was, short but proud. "Are you going to hurt me, Julian?"

"Why did you threaten Goyong?" Julian asked, his voice an octave lower than usually.

"Contrary to what you think I did, I didn't threaten him." Sofia answered, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't feel the need to cover herself up in modesty. Not in front of the two. "I had the pistol just in case _he_ attempted to shoot _me_."

"And what woman would carry a pistol around when meeting an old friend?" Vicente murmured, a more tranquil version of whatever intimidation Julian was trying to impose.

"This woman." She raised one side of her skirt - Vicente flinched and Julian raised an eyebrow - as she showed them the small glinting gun strapped against her thigh. "You forget I am now Hilaria and Felicidad's personal guard. Whether in bed or walking in daylight, I must be armed. I've got a knife somewhere here, too, but for Vicente's sake I won't show you where it is."

Julian would usually make some snide flirtatious remark regarding the weapons around her body but right now, Sofia could see him holding that thought back. He was still upset and he still doubted her. "Then why didn't you just go through the door and meet with him personally like a normal human being?"

"If you wanted to send a warning, would you do that by setting an appointment?"

Julian drew in a breath and leaned down. "You are up to something, Sofia Valera. And when we find out what it is, _you're_ going to receive _your_ judgement."

Sofia whistled a low tune. "Frightening. And ironic, coming from someone who murdered two of the Bernal brothers and beat the shit out of the youngest."

Julian stiffened. "We had to do what we had to do."

"Is that what you tell yourself at night just so you could sleep peacefully?"

"What if we report to the President about your inappropriate encounter with Goyong, right now?" Vicente warned, narrowing his eyes. "That's a drop of fuel in a flame of suspicion that could spark up in the future."

"He won't believe us." Julian said to Vicente. "He's too fond of her. She's good with her charms." He spat out the last word like venom.

"And, again, I wasn't there to threaten Goyong." Sofia rolled her eyes. "I just wanted to scare him a little. For what he did."

"Pity you didn't get me and Vicente as well?" Julian taunted.

"Oh, I don't need to." Sofia replied, a soft lilt to her tone sending Julian reeling back in the slightest of ways. "Goyong has many supports. Everyone loves him. I needed to show him there are people who think his actions must have consequences. But the two of you - " She looked from one man to the other. "You know the reality of the situation. That, in itself, is already a nightmare."

Vicente swallowed and looked at her with a pained expression. "You've changed, Sofia."

Sofia clenched her jaw and turned away. "Shocking." She commented drily.

When she entered her room, neither Julian nor Vicente made a move to stop her.

As she locked her door and jumped back to bed, she saw the clock strike seven in the morning. She should start getting dressed, as the two ladies she served would be up and about in a short while.

But Sofia closed her eyes for a bit and buried her face in the sheets, letting herself feel the slight pang of torment in her heart. Outside of the rooms, she could hear Julian and Vicente's footsteps fade into the morning haze.

She wanted to ask Julian if they'd kept the purple ribbon she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joven Hernando and Remedios Nable Jose will appear in the next chapter.
> 
> Kudos and Comments are very much appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral or Heneral Luna.  
> This is, in no way, a written piece that depicts the reality of Philippine history. It is only a fanfiction of the wonderful films based on the events of it.

“Fuck.” Joven cursed under his breath.

“Joven.” Goyo warned from the position he was trying to hold. Joven didn’t fail to notice how the General’s tone was different today – how somber and low it sounded, as if his soul had decided to deflate within itself for the time being. Still, Gregorio Del Pilar shot him a look that said, “ _Watch your words_.”

Joven would’ve rolled his eyes, but instead he decided to keep the slight irritation internal.

Going back to his work, Joven finally realized why his uncle charged his clients so highly whenever he provided shooting services. Setting up all of this equipment was no walk in the park. It wasn’t _that_ hot, but Joven was already sweating from the effort.

Standing up straight and preparing the lens for today’s shoot, he glanced up just in time to see the General’s face turning away from him. He was clearly distracted.

Joven shifted his gaze to where Goyo was looking at, expecting to find a group of young women flirting with him from afar. However, the only thing he saw was an empty spot of grass and flowers and fallen leaves.

Goyo was thinking about something. Joven had no idea what it was.

“General.” Joven called out. Goyo didn’t seem to hear him. “General.” He tried again.

Goyo’s eyes widened a fraction before refocusing themselves on Joven’s. He straightened himself and flashed a charming smile. Forced, but present.

Joven had recently made a mental note of how the General and his two Colonels smiled.

Goyo’s was always smooth and suave – a mock target for any of the ladies who would want to be the woman of his affections. Julian’s was smug and predatory, all wicked grins and sharp teeth. And Vicente’s – well, his smiles were always hesitant, but emphatic. Soft. As if he could convey, in that small action, the emotions he'd bottled up over the years.

“I don’t have all day, Joven.” Goyo cut off Joven’s trail of thought.

“Forgive me, General.” Joven said as he leaned down on the equipment. “Now, please look at the sky. A bit lower. Do not move. And…”

And then it was done. Joven covered the lens and Goyo's body seemed to relax.

When Joven didn’t make a move to fix his things, Goyo looked at him curiously. “You have other photography duties today?”

Joven wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Yes.”

“Women?” Goyo smiled mischievously.

“The Aguinaldo ladies, I was informed.” Joven answered. He needed to have a glass of water before he continued doing this.

At that moment, Goyo’s smile vanished. Joven stopped and asked, “Is there something wrong, General?”

Goyo cleared his throat and refused to meet Joven’s eyes. “Nothing. There was just… something I found out this morning.”

“From Colonels Julian and Vicente?”

“Yes.” Goyo’s answer was a small one. Smaller than what Joven was used to hearing.

Joven drew his eyebrows together and willed himself to have the courage to ask, “What is it, Goyo?”

Goyo raised both eyebrows and looked at Joven as if the boy had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. Joven could feel himself going beet red. He’d never called Goyo by his first name. He’d never had trouble with calling Vicente by his. He accidentally did that once with Julian and the older Del Pilar merely laughed, amused.

He didn't know how the General would react.

Joven started stammering. “I – what I meant was – “

Goyo chuckled and shook his head, seeming to forget about his trouble for a moment. “It’s fine, Joven. Just don’t call me that when we’re among other people.” He fixed his cap more securely on his head. “This General _does_ need to keep his reputation in check.”

Joven nodded once before both he and the General heard the tinkling voices of women laughing. The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the garden.

Joven straightened himself, as was customary for a gentleman when meeting with ladies. Goyo smoothed down his uniform and fixed the blade on  his hip. Standing like that, Joven knew the both of them looked dashing.

Hilaria Aguinaldo was leading the small procession when the women emerged from the pathway. Wearing a pure white Baro’t Saya, a maroon panuelo was gorgeously tied over her skirt, embroidered with cream flowers.

Felicidad Aguinaldo didn’t walk far from her sister-in-law, donned in a light orange blouse and a red skirt. She looked like she was wearing the sunset, Joven marveled in thought.

A few more handmaidens were sauntering gracefully behind them, fanning themselves with lace and delicate wood. Joven saw the discomfort in Goyo’s stature when Felicidad was near. As well as the amusement he expressed when the other ladies batted their eyelashes at him.

But when Joven looked at the last of the ladies, he felt his heart stop.

Goyo reached for his arm and gripped it with a force that would’ve made him shout.

“Do _not_ make a scene.” Goyo told him, quiet enough so that the women didn’t hear.

Because there, walking towards him, was Sofia Valera. Her blouse was a shade of plain gray, a tapis the color of black pinned together at the middle of her chest with a simple round pearl. Her skirt was an ombre of shadows, shifting in tints whenever she moved. Compared to the other ladies around her, she had the least astonishing look.

Joven knew why. Despite Luna’s death as well as Paco’s, she still maintained the assassin’s mentality.

To blend into the background, stealthy as a cat.

Sly as a fox.

He'd met her back when General Luna was still alive and well. They were close. She was like a sister to him. But then, he had thought she was _dead_. Just like all the others.

Joven wanted to say something to Goyo. Anything. But to both their surprises, Sofia stopped right in front of them. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, small curls straying to kiss her cheeks.

“Joven.” Sofia greeted.

Joven didn’t know what to say.

Sofia turned towards the General. “Goyong.”

“Piyang.”

“ _Piyang?_ ” Joven asked, mortified. Nobody but the General Luna and his most trusted men called her that.

“We go back.” Goyo said with a sweet smile, not taking his eyes off Sofia.

“ _Way_ back.” Sofia retaliated, showing her pretty dimples.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me.” Goyo told Joven, although the latter wouldn’t have noticed from the way the General wasn’t looking at him.

“You didn’t tell me about her, either.” Joven said, to which Goyo replied with an annoyed look on his face.

Sofia hid a small giggle beneath a purple silk handkerchief. Joven knew that giggle. It was as deadly as poison. “We grew up together. In Bulacan.”

Bulacan. Of course. Joven remembered General Luna and Colonel Paco mentioning her origins during his earlier interviews.

Back when they were still alive.

“Potograpo.” The Doña Hilaria approached them and all three inclined their heads in respect. “My ladies and I are ready for the shoot. Shall we begin?”

“Of course, Señora.” Joven politely replied.

As the women positioned in a straight line, with Doña Hilaria at the middle and Señorita Felicidad on her right, Sofia didn’t make a move to join them. She remained standing, flanked by both Joven and Goyo, with the young General keeping a firm distance.

“You will not be joining them, Señorita?” Joven muttered.

“I am a guard here. Not a lady. If anyone were to attempt an attack on the Doña or the Señorita Aguinaldo, I would not be in an advantageous observant point if I stood among them.” Sofia replied smoothly, bringing out her fan and spreading it with a flick of her wrist.

Joven exhaled loudly before turning to the women, “Please do not move.” He said as he prepared to take the shot.

He tried to ignore the way Sofia side eyed Goyo in the coldest of manners and the way Goyo stared at her, one hand gripping the hilt of his blade.

Joven took the shot and covered the lens.

 

 

Remedios was watching Goyo from the balcony as _Goyo_ watched the newest of Doña Hilaria’s ladies.

Remedios knew the nature of looks.

There were looks of anger, embers scorching through time itself. Nock, draw, loose. And then burn.

There were looks of love, a personal bubble expanding from the chest of one person to merge with that of another. Flowers blooming in the summer, picked up by fingers and accepted by the heart.

And then there were looks of caution. Sharp and intense eye contact, focusing on the target. Ready to pounce if need be. Waiting for the threat to move.

That was the look Goyo was giving Sofia Valera.

Dolores was amusing herself as she stood by Remedios’ side, admiring the women below. Remedios suddenly asked, “Dolores. What do you know of the lady Sofia?”

Dolores looked up at her big sister and replied, “What do you mean, Ate?”

“I mean, she’s new. And she doesn’t socialize much with the other women.” Remedios said.

Dolores shrugged and kept fanning herself. “Perhaps, she’s shy. I heard she hailed from Bulacan.”

This made Remedios turn her head towards her sister. “Like Goyo, Julian, and Vicente?”

Dolores stopped fanning midway. “Oh my.” She said. “I didn’t realize that.”

Remedios was thoughtful for a moment, trying to reconcile the origins of the three boys as well as the Valera girl with how Goyo was acting towards her right now.

“Do you think they were friends?” Dolores asked with a curious frown. “I’ve not seen them talk to each other.”

“I don’t know.” Remedios answered.

Dolores elbowed her, to which she returned with a click of her tongue. “Are you jealous?”

 _No_. Remedios thought. _Far from_. But what was she feeling? This was more than just pure inquisitiveness. Ever since Goyo’s troops came into town, she’d felt a growing fascination with everything that was happening. She was least interested in the General’s pursuit for her affections than she was in the connections and politics binding them all together.

“I would like to befriend her.” Remedios blurted out without thinking.

Dolores looked at her with a comical expression. “Why? She’s scary.”

“How so?” Remedios asked.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about her that’s… _frightening_. She could be a witch for all we know.”

Remedios hit her sister on the arm with her fan. “Don’t say such things.” She hissed. “If you won’t approach her, then I will. I want to know more about her.”

Dolores murmured a chastised, “Whatever.”

As Remedios returned to watching Goyo and Sofia battle things out with their silent mind games, she shifted her eyes slightly to the left.

The Señorita Felicidad was looking up at her.

They both offered each other demure smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Joven isn't allowed to curse as per the General's orders.  
> I really love both Remedios and Felicidad!
> 
> Kudos and Comments are much appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral or Heneral Luna.  
> This is, in no way, a written piece that depicts the reality of Philippine history. It is only a fanfiction of the wonderful films based on the events of it.
> 
> Lengthy chapter ahead.

_Soro: Espia de Morong._

Sofia turned around at the achingly familiar title. The trees that surrounded her were thick and tall, barring the sunlight from entering the forest. Her eyes darted from left to right, searching for the source of the voice. She’d recognized it as a blend of a thousand tones belonging to the people she’d known throughout her time in the Katipunan.

_Soro._

Andres Bonifacio.

_Espia de Morong._

Emilio Jacinto.

_Dalagang Valera._

Gregoria De Jesus.

They were packets of wind shooting through the air, disturbing the leaves where fruits and blossoms refused to grow. Her widened gaze was flickering towards every direction, committing desperate attempts to locate the souls of the dead. Or those of the ones who’ve witnessed the fall of the empire and lived long enough to tell the tale.

_Piyang!_

A gunshot. Sofia stumbled against dirt and moss, the few signs of panic peeking through her chest, struggling to overwhelm her. Her hands began to pat at her skirts, trying to feel for a knife or a gun. Anything to defend herself from the threat rising from the unknown.

 _Lagi mong iisipin_. She looked up, her hair a tangled disarray over her ashen face. It was General Antonio Luna. He was sitting on a chair beside his guitar, holding a cup of hot chocolate. Alive and well, his white suit glaring at her with an intensity that could bring even the worst of sinners to tears. _Tuwing ika’y nalilito sa kung ano ang dapat mong gawin, surrin mo ang mga salik sa iyong kapaligiran. Usisain mo ang iyong konsensya. Ang ginagawa mo ba ay para sa bayan o para sa sarili?_

He smiled at her. As if he was proud of her.

Behind him stood Paco, his hands clasped at the small of his back. He was staring out the window, attentive as ever.

Manuel and Jose were playing cards on the small wooden table near the door. Partly on the lookout. Partly urging her to join them.

Manuel held out his hand. “Come, Sofia.” He said, laying down his spread on the desk.

Sofia glanced down at it and realized they weren’t standard cards.

They were Tarot cards.

Manuel flipped one open and showed it to her. Death.

“Little Dama de Noche.” Jose grinned at her. He flicked a card and balanced it on top of his fingers.

Judgement.

Sofia was so very tempted to take Manuel’s hand, her heart constricting with anguish and longingness. She almost reached out.

Until they all started bleeding.

Their eyes, noses, and mouths began to pool over with blood – bright angry reds staining clean cut jackets. General Luna’s cup overflowed with thick crimson nightmare, invading the wooden floor. Covering the strings of his guitar. Broken chords resonated from twirls of nylons snapping in half. The world sounded like it was _dying_.

Sofia screamed – a shrill and terrified sound echoing throughout the forest. Hands emerged from the earth and took hold of her arms and legs, fingers digging against skin, marking her body with scratches. An arm burst through the soil and placed her in a choke hold as another reached out to grab a fistful of her hair. She was crying out for the sky, fingers splayed over. Begging for salvation from the heavens.

 _Piyang, my child_. It was her mother’s voice. _You have the power - we all do._

_Remember that._

That was the last thing she heard before nature swallowed her back into its womb.

 

 

Sofia sat upright, panting.

The room was dark, save for the lights that illuminated Dagupan during the evening. She often left her windows partially open because there were days when she felt as if fresh air was scarce, though the town was basically surrounded by greenery. Right now, the wind was blowing her curtains in. The moon was in the phase of waxing gibbous, bathing her room in lunar light.

 _Luz de la luna_. She ran her fingers through her hair and looked at the clock. Three in the morning.

Sofia debated whether she should go out for a relaxing walk or try to go back to bed. But the feeling of her soft sheets did nothing to comfort her. Nobody should get her wrong, the bad dream was just _that_ – a bad dream.

But it hit her where it hurt, nevertheless.

It was a ridiculous thought – to be frightened into waking life by something conjured by the mind. Emilio Jacinto would’ve looked at her with a bored expression and a cynical remark if she'd told him. If they were still together under a singular faction. But Bonifacio was dead and there was no reason for the two of them to interact. There hasn't been for more than two years now.

She was fighting another battle. Closer to the enemy than Ilyong would ever know.

Sighing loudly, Sofia grabbed her knife and pistol. Securing both weapons against her, she wrapped a thin black shawl over her shoulders and walked over to the door. Her white night gown swished across the floor in small soothing sounds as she pushed back one side of her hair over her shoulder.

When she opened the door, she whipped out her gun and pointed it on the figure standing in front of her.

It was Joven.

Sofia exhaled and closed her eyes. “Dios _mio_ , Joven.” Tucking the gun back where she hoisted it, she looked at him with a scolding expression. "What were you thinking? Standing there like an idiot. I could’ve shot you dead.”

Joven said nothing for a while. He merely looked at her, conveying a message only she knew how to decipher.

And then, “I thought you were dead, Ate.”

Sofia allowed herself to melt, her shoulders sagging in momentary defeat. “Oh, Jovenito. Come here.” She caught him in an embrace and the two of them clutched against each other, two souls mourning for the people they’ve lost and the deaths they’ve witnessed.

“What happened to you?” Joven asked as he pulled back and reached for her hand. When she held onto his, she looked at the scar of the bullet hole on his palm. “I thought you died in the river.”

Sofia shook her head. “The river saved my life.”

She intended to lead him towards the dining table, but then he tugged for her to stop. She looked back at him. “Ate, is it alright to talk outside of your room?”

“I have nothing to fear, Joven.” Sofia replied.

Sitting around the table and pouring themselves a hot cup of tea, both Sofia and Joven were quiet for a while. The steam swirled into small tendrils in front of them, as if all the things they wanted to say could be interpreted in their grayish haze.

“Jose cried when he threw you over the cliff.” Joven finally spoke up.

Sofia remembered running through the forest with a broken leg, trying to hop with the other as fast as she could. Jose and Manuel had both of her arms slung over their shoulder, while Joven ran behind them. She could imagine his ragged breathing. Their disheveled uniforms torn from the branches they passed by as they ran for their lives. Fear and anxiety crippling within, coupled with a searing pain. The struggle of keeping quiet on those grounds, on that fateful day, was palpitating. So utterly scarring, she never forgot.

“I was weighing the three of you down.” She quietly said as she repressed the emotions that came with the memories.

She recalled a dead end. A ravine. Manuel cursing. The sounds of approaching footsteps causing them to panic.

“Kuya.” Jose said through gritted teeth, adjusting his hold on Sofia. “What are we going to do?”

“We have to keep running.” Joven said.

Manuel looked around and saw an opening on the hill beneath them. It was a gape in between two tall trees and jagged rocks. “There.” He whispered, pointing to the pathway.

For half a second, Sofia managed to roll her head around despite the daze brought about by her wounds. She saw where they were going and she knew it was going to be a bumpy road ahead. They’d never make it to the end in time. The vibration of the run would make her scream. She knew it.

Glancing down the ravine, she prayed for a miracle. And a miracle it was. The rushing river lay below them, streams coursing through the mountains with a speed that would've made the average person recoil in fright. But to her, it was a sign of hope. It was the best option she had at that moment. She knew what she had to do.

“Throw me.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her throat was hurting from all the screaming she'd done.

Jose stopped and looked at her, his face covered in sweat and dirt. “What?”

“Sofia.” Manuel said, his tone a mixture of disbelief and authority - as if they could afford such things in this situation.

“Throw me. I won’t make it through the forest.” She grunted and tried to position herself over the edge. Jose kept a tight grip on her. “You’ll get caught if you don’t do this. _Throw me.”_

“We do not kill our own.” Manuel told her.

“I won’t die.”

“Ate, please.” Joven was half pleading for her to make sense. And half pleading for them to hurry up before the soldiers caught up with them.

“I won’t die. I promise.” She looked down again. “The water is my lifeline.” She turned her eyes to Jose's meaningfully, before switching her gaze to Manuel.

It felt like an eternity before Manuel nodded. “Jose.”

“Kuya.” Jose whined, as if he were still a boy and not the adult his brother wanted him to be right now. “Piyang.”

The sound of leaves rustling and voices shouting made the four of them flinch into action.

“ _Now_ , Jose.” Manuel demanded as he took hold of Sofia. Jose finally gave in to his brother’s orders.

“Ate.” Joven breathed out, helpless.

The last thing Sofia saw before hitting the waters were the rocks and branches that stuck through the cliff, passing her by in fast moving pictures. The river took her in with a large splash, as loving and as accepting as a mother's embrace. The blue waves pulled her below and she drifted through the current as the three men continued their escape overhead.

“Ate.” It was Joven again, only this time they were back at the house and Luna was dead. The two Bernals were dead. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She asked. As far as she knew, Joven was only a student. A writer. Now, a photographer. All of this death and violence was _not_ what he signed up for.

“I don’t know.” Joven said. “I just felt like I needed to apologize. For not doing enough. For not being enough.”

Sofia took a sip of her tea. “You’re here now, my love.” She said. “Which brings me to ask. How?”

“Angel Bernal.” Joven said with a sad smile. “He saved us. Jose went into hiding somewhere in Calasiao. Manuel sought help from Don Mariano here in Dagupan. Angel and I went to my uncle Miguel in Bayambang.”

“And that was before he was captured and before you’re uncle came into the service of Goyo’s troops.” Sofia finished, taking another sip and tasting the bittersweet tang of honey and mint. 

Joven looked sad as he stared down at his own cup. "I've not heard anything about him."

"Neither have I." Sofia replied. She knew Angelito was released, but she didn't know where to find him. Aside from that, it would not be good for the boy if she were to try to contact him. What with Goyo, Julian, and Vicente's awareness of her somewhat obvious vendetta. Perhaps, she thought, it was better to leave him out of her mess for a while.

Joven eyed her with those dark and youthful irises. “Manuel was recently captured by Goyo. There has been no news of Captain Jose.” He said, turning his head away. “But Colonel Vicente assured me they were not going to be harmed. Only questioned.” He smiled a forced sheepish smile, searching for some form of reassurance from the young woman sitting across the table.

Sofia stared at him for what felt like a long time, trying not to show how stunned she was at what he'd just said. _He doesn’t know._ She thought. _He has no idea both Manuel and Jose are dead_.

“Siya nga pala, Ate.” Joven severed her trail of thought as he brought his cup to his lips. “How did you survive the river?”

Sofia went quiet for a moment, trying to regain some semblance of clarity. “I – “

“Bakit gising pa kayo?” She stopped mid sentence. The polite and casual tone could only be Vicente’s.

Sofia sighed inaudibly and looked up to find The Boy General standing by the stairs with his two Colonels.

“Naalimpungatan lang po, Colonel.” Joven answered, innocent as ever.

“Perhaps you boys would like some tea.” Sofia offered not sarcastically as she made a move to stand from her seat.

“Don't bother." Julian said. He took a step forward and grabbed a chair. "I wouldn't want to be poisoned tonight."

Sofia glared at him before sitting back down. She wrapped her shawl more securely around her.

“It seems as if you were having a rather deep conversation.” Goyo said. He walked up to the window and sat on the sill. “Do you mind letting us in on it?”

Joven hesitated, looking nervously at Sofia. She successfully maintained her calm. She knew when and when not to give out information. “Joven was just asking me how I survived after Luna died.”

Vicente, who was beginning to unstrap his saber, stopped. “And how did you?” He asked.

“I fell on a river, drifted to the shore, and was attended to by a few good locals.” She raised her cup to her lips. “And now I’m here.”

“And now you’re here.” Goyo said. She could feel his eyes burning holes through her head.

The tension in the air was thick.

“Joven, perhaps you should go to bed.” Vicente said, putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder. Sofia’s eyes locked onto the way Enteng's fingers kept a gentle but firm grip on Joven. The way his voice shifted from slightly threatening to remarkably friendly. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Do you mean questioning, Colonel?” Joven asked.

Sofia was both astounded and alarmed at Joven's sudden bravery. She raised her eyebrows as she saw the young man's face turn from normal to neutral, barring away emotions and facing the truth.

Julian's laughter sounded more like a bark. “Didn’t know Joven had a bite to him.”

Vicente looked as shocked as he probably felt. He tried for a laugh, but it came out awkwardly. “We’re not going to hurt her, Joven. She’s our childhood friend. We grew up together in Bulacan.” He reasoned, leaning down a bit. “And you need some rest. You’ve been taking photos since this morning.”

Sofia latched on to that – to the image of Vicente trying to assure Joven. Trying to comfort him. She saw it and she didn’t deny it. Enriquez was fond of him. _Very_ fond of him.

 _Use that_. The voice at the back of her head said. _But make sure Joven does_ not _get hurt_.

She was piecing the details together when she said, “Go on, Joven. I would also like to have a few words with my… old friends.”

Julian scoffed.

Joven looked at her once before nodding and walking out.

The four of them waited in silence. Once the sound of Joven's door closing echoed through the house, Goyo spoke up. “Now tell me how the fuck you got into this house without us knowing.”

Sofia sighed and took Joven's empty cup. “I’ve only been here as shortly as you have. Although I was lodged in the local inn, Aguinaldo and I were constantly in contact. He arranged for my pardon. You could even say I was with the President the whole time.” That wasn't entirely true. She arrived in Dagupan a few hours after them, hoping to find Manuel. She'd acquired information that he was in Dagupan. But by the time she figured out he was hiding in Don Mariano's, Goyo had already beat her to him.

“ _I_ was with Ka Miong the whole time, too.” Goyo argued.

Sofia snorted. "Oh please, Goyong. You were busy romancing as a side track to having Manuel found and murdered." Turning to Vicente, she said, “You were busy being complicit to him, all the while struggling to think you're doing the right thing.” She looked at Julian last. “And you were busy being an asshole. To everyone. Everywhere.”

Julian slow clapped. She dared to look up and meet his eyes. They were as deep and as dark as she remembered them. Like a wolf's in the night, stalking its prey. "I'm happy to see you haven't lost your tactless nature, Piyang." He said. "Really, I am. If you're as hot headed and loose tongued as Luna, maybe we won't have to do much for the President to realize you're a threat."

Vicente looked at Julian and Sofia was sure a scolding remark was dangling on the tip of his tongue. He swallowed it and looked away.

"So the President did have him assassinated." Sofia said with a steady voice. She stood up and took the cups to the cleaning bin. Her hands were shaking in an attempt to conceal her grief. "I thought so as much."

“What’s your intention, Sofia?” Goyo asked and she knew he was glaring at her back. “Why are you here?”

Revenge. Release. Justice. She almost said it, the words rising inside her throat. She pushed it down with a force of a woman on a mission. “To continue serving my country.” She said. "I've given Aguinaldo a taste of my loyalty over the years. When Bonifacio died, I chose him. Now Luna has died, and I still chose him.” This time, she thought, so I could plunge a knife through his heart.

“If that's the case, I don't understand why you had to ambush Goyong in his rooms.” Vicente said.

Sofia shrugged. “I was just scaring him for what he did to the Bernals.” She stopped and looked around. "Oh wait. For what you _all_ did. Especially you." She tipped her chin at Julian.

Of course, that was a pathetic excuse. It wasn't the wisest choice to antagonize Goyo while trying to maintain Aguinaldo's favor. What she was truly trying to accomplish was intimidating him enough to make him suffer, even just for a little bit, for his decisions. And all the while, he can watch as she casts him down from his throne and replace him as the President's true favorite. Before she takes her vengeance.

The threats were just games. Aguinaldo would never take it seriously.

Julian grinned a mirthless grin. He sighed once. And then he was on his feet, charging at her. Sofia was ready to meet him head on, but Vicente ran between them before anything could happen. "Stop it. Both of you." He said. "Do you want to wake up the whole house?"

"Maybe we should so everyone would know what she is." Julian pointed at her with a bony finger. "Then perhaps I could execute her right here and now."

 _That didn't hurt._ Sofia tried to convince herself as she bit her lip and held Julian's stare. _That didn't. Hurt._

"Kuya, tama na 'yan." Goyo said. "Sofia, I am the General. What the President orders, I follow. And they follow. Do we look like we have a choice?”

"There we go again. Using Aguinaldo as an excuse for your actions." Sofia spat back.

"I should go get him now. Let's see who he'll side with once we tell him all the things you've told us." Julian said.

"Which part?" Sofia scoffed out a laugh, happy she hadn't blatantly threatened the President in any way. "The part where I said I chose him, despite everything? Or maybe, you think you have leverage over me because I'm still angry over what happened to Luna and my higher ups? Because if you think that's worth executing someone for, you'd be executing one fourth of the country's army." She reasoned. "What former soldier of Luna isn't angry, Julian?"

"Aguinaldo's so easily frightened. Your anger's enough." Julian snarled.

"Go on." Sofia dared, throwing one hand up. "Go skinny dipping in the river and never emerge if Aguinaldo dismisses this as a petty children's fight."

"Pasensya na, Julian, pero tama si Piyang." Vicente said, palm pressed against his friend's chest. "The President would simply dismiss this. Nagkakapikunan lang kayo. Huminahon ka muna."

“Hindi ako pikon.” Julian said through gritted teeth.

“Kuya, you’re temper isn’t helping.” Goyo said.

“Who's side are you on?”

“ _Tama na._ ” Vicente’s voice cut through the fight. “You’re acting like kids.” He breathed out. “Goyong, sit down. Julian, _sit down_.” Turning to Sofia, he softened his expression. “Sofia, listen to me.” He took a step forward and she took a step back.

Sofia crossed her arms over her chest, cursing herself for wanting to cry. Vicente sighed.

“I know we’ve done things. Wrong things. But we're Filipino soldiers, loyal to the nation we’re trying to build.” He took a deep breath, as if all of this was stressing him out. She could feel his little heart beating with the pain of seeing his friends fighting. He was always like that. But then, he was holding out a hand. Waiting for her to take it. “You loved Luna. He was one of the best Generals. But he’s gone now. And I understand you’re angry. However, cryptic answers can’t be tolerated at this time and age. So I am asking you _now_ , Sofia. Are you with us or not?”

Sofia looked at his hand – stared at it for longer than necessary. She remembered when they were much younger. How that hand securely held her wrist, bodies bobbing in the river by the forest back in Bulacan. Vicente teaching her how to swim. Goyo paddling not far behind. Julian, older than all of them, showing off by floating over the surface.

But then she saw blood in that hand. Blood in Goyo's and Julian's. Behind her eyes, she saw Luna bleeding. Paco bleeding. Manuel and Jose bleeding. Rusca and Angel, wandering the lands, huddled up in their corners. Crying. Suffering.

 _Espia de Morong_. Ilyong called her.

She reaches out but only touched the tips of Vicente’s fingers. “I am fighting in this war.” She said, which wasn’t a lie. “I’m still angry.” Also not a lie. “I need some time.” She wasn’t sure about that one. “But I’m staying.” Again, not a lie.

“You’re not going to do anything to hurt anyone?” Vicente asked, pleading for reassurance.

“No.”

A lie.

She withdrew her hand before Vicente could catch it in a soothing hold. “Let’s at least be civil.” She said.

"Civil." Sofia saw the hope brighten in Vicente's eyes. He caught her words and clung to it. "Civil is great. Don't you think so, Goyong?"

Goyo opened his mouth, seeming unsure if he should agree or not, before deciding on the former. His eyes softened and turned to her with that familiar half-lidded look. "Civil." He nodded.

"Julian?" Vicente asked.

All eyes were on him. Sofia saw the way Julian looked from Enteng to Goyo and then to her. His eyes lingered, as if he were trying to remember something. Anything. She hoped she appeared as neutral as she wanted to be. But when his lip twisted bitterly, she knew he wasn't buying it. He walked over to the side, picked up his straw hat, and was out of the house before anybody could stop him.

Vicente cursed under his breath before following his friend.

Goyo hesitated for a moment and Sofia thought he was going to tell her something. But then he walked away as well, a hand holding the hilt of his saber.

Sofia stood there, finally alone, before allowing a single tear to roll down her cheek. She calmly wiped it off.

She failed to go back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very slight Mabinaldo in the next chapter.  
> Kudos and Comments are much appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral or Heneral Luna.  
> This is, in no way, a written piece that depicts the reality of Philippine history. It is only a fanfiction of the wonderful films based on the events of it.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE/WARNING:  
> Wherein Felicidad has also been internally affected by the events of the war.  
> Implications of deep melancholy and anxiety ahead.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here.” Felicidad said under her breath. She wasn’t particularly aiming for anybody to hear her – and even if they did, she would care less about what they said in return – but here she was standing outside the carriage she’d been housed in for the past few hours, thinking out loud. Unsure if she was waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did, though.

Sighing, she flicked her wrist and started fanning herself. Miong was giving instructions to the soldiers outside of the humble hut they were standing in front of, a mere distance away from the man her brother had always loved. Felicidad wondered why Miong was taking so long, until one of the servants brought out a beautiful ornate box carved with simplicity and affection. She saw the glint in her brother’s eyes. The flash of a smile where his dimples appeared, his hands carefully taking the token. As if it were a month old infant and not an inanimate object.

Felicidad crinkled her eyebrows. She knew who it was for, but she wasn’t sure what was inside.

“Must be a gavel.” Sofia suddenly said, her smooth alto voice blending into the waking silence.

Felicidad looked at the petite girl standing a few distances behind her shoulder. Close enough to protect her if she ever needed it, but far enough to be considered respectful.

“A gavel.” Felicidad said, piecing together any reason why his brother would ever give Apolinario Mabini a gavel of all things.

Sofia shrugged once, looking nonchalant. She chose to wear her hair differently today. The upper part was pulled back and braided into a clean bun. The lower part fell down over her shoulders in tight and shiny black curls. “I don’t usually see you do that.” Felicidad said, her tone sounding low and soft and careless.

“Do what?” Sofia asked blankly.

“Your hair.” Felicidad replied, lowering her fan and looking over at her brother who was looking over the hut, which seemed as if it was looking over all of them. “You don’t usually…” She trailed off, suddenly distracted by the morning breeze and the rising heat. Her mind skipping places. Pages upon pages of blank canvas.

“Are you well, my lady?” Sofia asked, a hint of a fuzz dawning between her eyebrows.

Felicidad knew she wasn’t. She hasn’t been for a while now, and she couldn’t bring herself to compile the list of things she was feeling as well as their respective reasons. Her mind was constantly tempted to soar through the clouds and never come back down. But she reminded herself she was an Aguinaldo. Her brother was the president, her sister-in-law the matriarch. Her friends were soldiers with high ranks. Her former sweetheart a General. And with all of the plotting and assassinations and politics going around, there was no more time for sky dazing.

There was simply no more time.

She drew in a breath and snapped her fan shut when Miong walked over to her. He was oblivious to what she was feeling, what she was thinking, as he stood before her with the box in hand. “A gift for Pole.” He opened it and lo and behold, it truly was a gavel. She didn’t need to look back to see Sofia’s subtle look of triumph. “What do you think?”

 _Nothing._ She thought. _I_ can’t _think. Not properly. Not since the war began. Not since everything. My mind is desperately trying to grab for any fragment of reality left in this forsaken world and I don’t know. Nothing. I can’t think._

“It’s wonderful.” She replied.

Miong expected her simple answer. She thought so as much. Closing the box and half turning towards the hut, he said. “Come. You and Sofia should rest inside.”

“Won’t you be speaking privately?” Felicidad asked.

“There is another part of the hut where you and Sofia can stay.” Miong said as they began to walk. The rest of the soldiers stood in attention. “I can’t possibly leave you outside.”

“Then why did you bring me in the first place?” Felicidad asked.

Miong looked back at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Have you ever heard of the saying that a king must not put all of his prized possessions in a single place?”

Felicidad has. “I am a possession.” She said.

“No.” Miong replied as if he were taken aback by his own implication. “You are prized.”

What’s the difference? Felicidad wanted to ask. By the end of the day she was a woman at the mercy of her brother’s power. Lest she decided to marry soon. If she were lucky enough, maybe God would suddenly rain down wealth upon her, enough so she’d be able to fend for herself. But it seemed unlikely. Hands holding her skirts, she and Piyang followed Miong inside.

Her brother wasn’t lying when he said the hut had a separate section. It was more strategically convenient on the inside. A living room was situated on the left part, and the dining or meeting area at the right. A door could also be seen in the small space where the sala ends, but Felicidad supposed it was Mabini’s bedroom.

When they came in by the door of the right chamber, Apolinario Mabini was writing by his table. His gaze never left the print of black and white, smudged ink marking the side of his palm. Felicidad had only seen him a handful of times, usually during the few instances when she could pass by a meeting. He always seemed so unbothered, even when the breeze from the north could frequently be as cold as it was right now.

When he looked up, Felicidad swore she’d never see Pole anywhere and mistake him for someone else. His eyes were intense and bright and sorrowful. They were the eyes of someone who thinks too much at night. Sometimes, when she looks in the mirror, she sees those same eyes on her head. Uncomprehending, but at the same time, seeking.

Pole smiled, though it seemed forced as it was directed at her brother. He bowed his head. “Señor Presidente.” He greeted.

“Señor Mabini.” Miong’s grin was happy. Ecstatic, even. His face lighting up at the sight of the former Prime Minister. At that moment, Felicidad couldn’t help but feel sorry for her brother. It seemed he wasn’t aware about the gravity of his actions, of how Apolinario Mabini felt towards him. Brought about by the decisions he’d made.

Pole saw the flaws of the revolution, particularly its leader, and sought out to write about the things they could do to be better as a nation. Miong saw only himself. And Pole’s potential. The idea of what his mind could do. But never truly putting into work what the former Prime Minister was capable of.

There's was a love that was doomed, Felicidad thought as her fingers played with her panyo.

“Señorita Aguinaldo.” Pole turned to Felicidad and she had to snap out of her thoughts. She replied with a polite nod.

When Pole’s attention landed on Sofia, Felicidad expected him to frown or to turn away in discomfort. Just like everybody else who recognized the girl these days. But instead, his eyes softened and his smile grew into a mild comforting gesture. “Señorita Valera. It is a pleasure to see you once more. I suppose the rumors have been true that you were pardoned and now serve as the Aguinaldo ladies’ handmaiden.”

Felicidad took note of the way Sofia kept a neutral expression. Although a small smile was plastered on her face, this handmaid of hers wasn’t entirely sweet in the nature of her greeting. “Señor Mabini. It is an honor to be acknowledged by you as well.”

“You do not hate me?” Mabini asked, which made Felicidad look from Sofia to Mabini and then back again. One was slightly stunned by the straightforward statement. The other remained calm and patient. “Emilio Jacinto hates me. Ka Oryang does as well.”

Felicidad didn’t fail to notice the shift in her brother’s footing. His sudden impatience. The blankness that overtook his features. She knew about Andres Bonifacio. She'd never truly talked to him about it, but she knew.

“We’ve… all had our past differences.” Sofia answered with a careful tone. It was like stepping into enemy territory and being forced to tread cautiously. Felicidad didn’t know why, but her heart was suddenly clenching behind her ribcage. She was genuinely afraid Sofia would say something about the Katipunan that would throw her brother off. “I didn’t like you before, but things have changed. I believe you are worth the admiration for your political writings.”

“And Jacinto?”

“He has had intelligent contributions as well.”

 _Say no more._ Felicidad internally pleaded. _Please._

“Perhaps we should let the ladies leave us, Pole.” Miong interjected as he took a step forward. “Felicidad.” He gave his sister a meaningful look.

Felicidad knew that look. It meant, make yourself scarce. Find a nice living room. Sit down. Stay safe.

Felicidad did as she was told, relieved to have broken up the tension of past Katipunan members. Leading Sofia to the living room, she sat down on the nearest sofa and began to fan herself once more. However, looking back at her handmaiden to see the girl still standing, she let out an irritated huff. “Why don’t you sit down, Sofia?”

“I am a guard, my lady. If an enemy were to – “

“Stop.” Felicidad closed her eyes and tried to maintain a modicum of self-control. “I’m sorry. It’s just - I can’t relax when everybody else isn’t relaxed and you _never_ look relaxed.”

For a while, there was no reply and Felicidad thought she'd finally found something that would offend Sofia. But then she felt the weight of the sofa shift. She glanced up to see the girl sitting down beside her. Piyang's hands were elegantly folded on her lap as she kept her gaze forward, side-eyeing Felicidad a few times in what is either shyness or awkward interaction.

“You know why I can’t relax.” Sofia said. “It’s my job to protect you.”

It’s always everyone’s job to protect Felicidad. When will she ever learn to protect herself? “I know.”

“Then why do you seem to think as if the whole world is a mess?” Sofia asked, glancing down at her fingers.

“I never said I did.” Felicidad answered, feeling something _thwang_  at the center of her chest.

“But that’s how you feel.”

Felicidad stopped fanning for a moment and looked at Sofia. The way the girl's hair curled against her face. The sad eyes and brown skin. She had no visible scar from where anyone could see, but the Aguinaldo sometimes wondered if she, too, had war marks hiding underneath proper clothing. Just like her brother. “That’s how I feel.” She admitted. “And I shouldn’t, because I’m not even fighting in this war. I’ve not gone to the battlefield, like you. I can barely survive in the wild. I’m… a liability.”

At this, Sofia turned to her. “You feel useless?”

“I feel as if my soul has left my body and I am but a shell walking around for my brother’s emotional sake.” Felicidad blurted out without thinking. “I’ve done nothing but worry since the revolution began.”

“You are a nurse. You tend to the wounded. Without women like you, we are nothing.” Sofia said, her voice firm and… more real than how Felicidad usually hears it. “They don’t call you Kapitan Neneng for nothing, Felicidad. Don't look down on yourself.”

Felicidad took a deep breath, unsure of what to say.

“Your emotions.” Sofia continued. “They are… valid. We’re at war. It does things to us.”

“What has it done to you?” Felicidad asked, just so she could find some form of grip to anchor her rising anxiety.

Sofia looked away and the silence was filled in by the slightly muffled conversation of the two men at the other room.

Felicidad could barely catch their words from how quietly they were talking. But then she heard a click, probably from the box, and what seemed to be the gavel being laid out and presented to Señor Mabini.

Silence.

She supposed Señor Mabini didn’t like the gift as her brother had hoped.

“It has taken away everything I love.” Sofia finally answered, fiddling with her handkerchief.

“Me, too.” Felicidad said. “In a way.”

“Is this about Goyong?” Sofia asked with a polite tone. “You don’t have to answer that if – “

“Yes.”

Felicidad was also shocked with the way the answer came flying through her lips, like a frog leaping across a pond. Free and unfazed. But it was mere seconds after she said it did she realize how utterly weak it sounded. Pathetic and crushed.

Sofia who immediately became hyper aware of what had been said, blinked twice before respectfully continuing the conversation in a safer direction. “Well, he’s never been good at keeping his word.” She said. “He’s young and easily distracted. He's sometimes a walking stupidity, if you ask me.” She laughed once and smiled up at Felicidad, a shine of confidence and support radiating from her face.

“Stupidity.” Felicidad repeated.

“Yes, he’s a reckless boy with a hunger for exhilaration. Immature, really.”

At that moment, Felicidad saw what Sofia was doing. The girl was guiding the sadness away and replacing it with addressing Goyo’s faults. She never truly saw Goyo’s flaws as something that encompassed him. Merely sidelines to his star bright image of one of the youngest Generals of the revolution.

She didn’t say anything.

Sofia sighed and looked her in the eye. “It’s not your fault.” She said. “It never was. If he left you without a word because he found another woman to try and win over, then he was the one who did you wrong.”

At this, Felicidad swallowed the lump in her throat. Of months and months of trying to push down the feelings of humiliation at being thrown away by the man she loved. Her brother’s tolerating reaction. Her sister-in-law’s prayers and mercy. The other young women around her patting her hand, looking at her as if she were a female character from a Greek tragedy.

But here was Sofia Valera, telling her she had nothing to do with Goyo’s leaving.

“I thought he was going to ask me to marry him.” Felicidad admitted.

Sofia hesitated before taking her hand. She squeezed it affectionately.

“I really did.” Felicidad continued, the first crack entering her voice. “But I should’ve known better. He’s handsome and… just so high above me. He would eventually find other girls in other towns. And now he sees only Remedios. I see the way he looks at her as if she were the only person in the room. I know he loves her because that’s how he used to look at me.”

The pain was there, fresh and searing as if Goyo had not left her so long ago. But the tears didn’t leave where they welled in her eyes.

“But what chance do I have compared to a sweet seventeen-year-old beauty?”

Sofia pressed her lips into a thin line before replying, “Don’t compare yourself to her. Actually, you should be worried about her.”

Felicidad stopped at that. “Huh?”

“Goyo’s after her affections. She should be warned.” Sofia scoffed. Then, turning serious, she continued. “Remedios and you. Me. Us. We are women constantly being pitted against each other because we have been brought up to think we must be perfect in order to be married off. But we must not hate each other. Instead of despising Remedios, you must protect her.”

Felicidad’s eyebrows knit at this. At the thought of protecting the woman who now has her beloved Goyo. But she saw the reason in Sofia’s words. The invisible jail of being born a woman. The constant need to be guarded and beautiful and never truly free.

“Besides, Goyong snores like a monster. Why would you want that on your bed?”

At this, Felicidad blushed and tapped Sofia on the shoulder. “You awful – “

Sofia laughed a tinkling laugh and let go of her hand. “It’s true!”

For some reason, that laugh made Felicidad feel lighter. “And how would you know?”

At this, Sofia’s eyes twinkled in mischief. “We were close when we were younger.” She said, looking away with a mixture of shyness and taunt. “Being one year apart, Goyong and I were the most inseparable. Julian and Vicente were, surprisingly, the other duo of our little band. Although, I hated Goyong most days because he was irritating and hyperactive and just plain – “

“Self-centered?” Felicidad finished.

Sofia pointed at her with a fan and nodded.

They both burst out laughing.

And then they were silent, because the men outside were glancing at their noise. Felicidad felt herself flush at the shame of being so loud. But then again, with Sofia around, it didn’t feel as if she had to hide behind her fan all the time. “God, I’m older than you. But it feels like you’re the twin sister I never had.”

Sofia looked at her oddly then. Her eyes widening a bit before settling on the floor with a soft kind of sadness.

“I’m sorry. Did I say something?” Felicidad asked.

“No.” Sofia shook her head. “It's just - I haven't had any friends these past few months.”

“But, the Del Pilars and Enteng?”

“Let’s just say we’re a bit… tense, lately.” Sofia said. “I was a soldier of Luna.”

Felicidad was taken aback at the statement. She could never quite understand what being Luna’s soldier meant for their relationship. Especially now when Sofia has been pardoned. “Has Julian not…” She trailed off, suddenly aware the question she was about to ask might be offensive.

“Has not?”

“I – “ Well, she was on her way there. “Has he not continued pursuing you since you came back?”

Sofia raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “He never did.”

“What?”

“He never pursued me. That’s the truth.”

“But – “ Felicidad looked around to make sure no one was listening and leaned in. “But he told me you were supposed to marry before the revolution.”

Sofia smiled a melancholic smile. She reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair away from Felicidad’s face. “Another story for another time.” She said. “Because it seems like your brother is done talking to Señor Mabini,”

At this, both women looked back to see Emilio Aguinaldo exiting the meeting chamber with a somber look on his face. At least, Felicidad thought, he didn’t have the gavel with him. He’d left it with Mabini, meaning the latter had accepted the gift.

“Shall we?” Her brother inclined his head.

Felicidad and Sofia followed without another word. The ride back to Dagupan was quiet.

 

 

It was evening by the time Sofia, along with the two Aguinaldos, came back. The President went straight to his rooms after greeting his wife with a kiss by the door. Felicidad also decided to retreat early, tired from the ride home.

Sofia was putting up incense sticks by the altar. Doña Hilaria wanted the house to be properly situated in tune with the nightly Dagupan mass held every Sunday. The church bells echoed with an eerie gong as she lit the sticks one by one.

Sofia was expecting a normal evening, until she felt the ghost of a figure brush past her.

She only saw a flicker of a hand and a white shirt before the figure disappeared, leaving a note barely three inches from where her fingers rested on the laced table cloth. She stopped mid-light of the final incense as she stared at the parchment before her.

Sofia quickly hid it inside her sleeve when she heard rowdy noises coming in from the first floor. Finishing her work, she offered her own prayer. Not to God, but to the deities of the moon. The ones her mother told her about when she was younger. To guide her in this mission with wisdom and courage.

“I’m telling you. She’ll fall for you.” It was Julian’s voice. And sure enough, the three young men were up the stairs in no time.

“Di naman ako papayag na hindi.” Goyo laughed.

They all stopped when they saw Sofia and the girl tried her best to look nonchalant as she fixed a bouquet of flowers inside the vase.

“You’re home.” Vicente said. A little too lightly, if anyone were to ask Sofia. “How was the trip to Señor Mabini’s?”

“It was fine.” She replied, glancing once at Enteng. “And where have the three of you been?”

Vicente looked like he wasn’t expecting her to reciprocate the civil conversation but thankfully continued, anyway. “At the Nable Jose’s. We had dinner with Don Mariano. Goyong even – “

He stopped short when Goyo gave him a look. Sofia interpreted that as a look of, No. Don’t tell her. We’re not there yet.

“Were... you there to pay your respects to Don Mariano or to take a look at Remedios?” Sofia casually smiled as she leaned on the wall next to the altar. “She’s beautiful, Goyong. And intelligent. She wouldn’t fall so lightly for someone who has a… big reputation.”

Goyo narrowed his eyes at her, catching the mockery. He crossed his arms over his chest. “As if you know anything about romance.” He said, almost petulantly.

“Of course I know a lot of things about - _romance._ ” She said rather confidently, which made the three young men look up with raised eyebrows. She shrugged. “What? You think I haven’t been keeping myself busy while we were apart?”

“Well, it’s just that the last time we were together, you were sort of…” Vicente trailed off.

Sofia waited with a blank expression on her face.

“You were sort of enigmatic with your relationships.” Goyo finished, air quoting the word 'enigmatic' to emphasize his meaning.

“I’ve nothing to lose now in hiding what I have and not have had, Gregorio.” Sofia said, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh, what do we care about her intimate life?” Julian said, and Sofia heard the bitterness in his tone. He looked snobbishly around the room before settling on staring down at his shoes. “We should care a lot more about her - ”

"Julian." Vicente glared at him.

Julian immediately closed his mouth and looked away. Sofia guessed Enteng gave him an ear full of a sermon regarding their supposed civility towards each other now that none of them could do anything about the situation. Still, Julian had always been hardheaded. His pride was bigger than his ability to see reason. 

Goyo, who seemed like he would rather bolt out of the house than deal with any more of this tension right now, offered a sheepish smile and fixed his hair with a sigh. Changing the subject, he said, "But you know, Dagupan doesn't have a scarcity with beautiful young women. Right, Enteng?"

“Yeah.” Vicente answered too quickly. "There are, like, lots of beautiful young women."

Goyo looked at him as if he were an idiot.

"And men, as well. Not talking about the three of you, of course." Sofia replied with a sweet smile. Turning to Vicente, she suddenly asked, “So my little Enteng is no longer a virgin?”

The room went deathly quiet and Vicente looked at her in pleasant surprise. Not at all offended or embarrassed. Because she had called her 'little Enteng'. The way she used to when they were younger. Sofia felt a vein in her neck throb as she kept herself from attempting to correct her mistake. But it was there. She hadn’t even noticed it until it slipped out of her mouth.

“No, because your little Enteng is no longer little.” Vicente replied with a smile as he stood there, cool and collected and well built in his soldier’s uniform. Sofia remembered a time when she had to teach him how to wear it so he wouldn’t look like he couldn’t carry a gun. But here he was, all grown up. Goyo’s cleanly waxed hair and the beautiful set to his jaw. Those deep eyes and strong hands. Julian’s swept back locks and half clean stubble. Tall stature and sure languid movements.

Although Sofia was still short in height, she knew she was no longer a child as well. Sometimes the mirror showed a graceful and busy young woman walking around the room. Sharp angled shoulders and cheekbones. A mature face. Looser, more tamable curls with a volume that gorgeously rests on the crook of her neck. She had rarely thought she would ever develop the confidence to appear attractive even if she wasn’t conventionally beautiful.

Bodies were just bodies. But looking at all of them now. Oh, how they’ve changed through the years.

“Just don’t do anything stupid, like Goyong.” Sofia remarked, straying away from the short-term intimacy.

“Hey.” Goyo said. “At least I’m not running after a girl who is showing absolutely no signs of attraction, whatsoever. Unlike Julian.”

For a while, Sofia saw the confusion and surprise in Julian’s features. “Dolores?” Vicente seemed weirded out that he had to remind him.

Julian glanced at Sofia and she wondered what was going on. “Oh. Yeah. Dolores.”

“You mean Remedios’ pretty and innocent younger sister? Julian, she's not someone you could just toy around with.” Sofia said, slightly appalled by the idea. Julian was never one to be careful with who and who not to pursue. 

“Well, Julian unfortunately has his eyes on her.” Goyo laughed but gradually stopped when he noticed nobody was laughing with him.

The silence quickly became awkward and Sofia could feel herself itching to run to her room. She desperately tried to think of something to say. Anything to save the conversation, but then Joven came walking down from the third floor and all attention suddenly turned to him.

“Where have you been – “ Vicente.

“Joven, my friend – “ Goyo.

“Hey, Hernando boy – “ Julian.

“What have you been up to – “ Sofia.

Joven looked at all of them, an arch of confusion gathering between his eyebrows. “I’m not sure who to respond to, but Doña Hilaria is asking if you’d like to have dinner?”

Vicente smiled and said, “Dinner would be lovely, Joven.”

“I’ll pass – “

“Salamat nalang – “

Sofia and Julian looked at each other and the girl swore she saw Goyo's lips purse at that.

“May gagawin pa ko.” Julian said.

“And I think I’m going to head to bed.” Sofia said.

“Well,” Goyo said clasping his hands together and standing up. He began to push Vicente and Joven up the stairs as he spoke. “I guess more food for us.” For a moment, the brothers shared a look and Goyo seemed to have taken up the role of reminding Julian to be nice. Sofia saw it in the way his eyes narrowed and the way his head shook. When the Boy General looked at her, there was a meaningful second. A gentle consideration on his part. And then, as if someone had snapped their fingers, it was gone. Goyo and the others had continued up the stairs. “Good luck with whatever.”

Sofia didn’t want to stay a second longer in the same private space as Julian so she made a move at dusting her blouse. “I suppose I should...”

“I’m sorry.”

Sofia gritted her teeth but kept her mouth shut.

“For the other night. I shouldn’t have said what I said.” Julian ran a hand over his face. “About executing you and all.”

“I know, I was there.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

Did she? Despite the apology, his words stuck to her like a magnet. And she still felt the burn of her emotions. The shame and guilt of letting them in, even for a little while.

“Vicente talked me out of the anger.” Julian explained. He laughed once and shrugged. “And you know what? Civil. I could do civil. If you could.”

Sofia blinked twice, her mind split in half. The other was trying to understand what Julian, ever aggressive and never forgiving, was saying. The other one struggling to keep herself focused because there was a note up her sleeve that needed tending to and she had no idea where it came from.

She felt the paper nibble at her skin from where shoulder meets parchment meets pineapple silk.

“I could.” She said, because she really can. If it was hard to be on Goyo’s bad side, it was harder so to be on Julian’s. Goyo was one to sit down and distract himself whenever he thought nothing was amiss. But Julian, though also prone to being distracted, doesn’t know the concept of sitting down. He might not even know what a fucking chair is. He stands and he stalks and he attacks.

So yes, Sofia could do civil.

The two of them remained quiet for a while longer, the uncomfortable silence stretching into the abyss. Sofia knew there were past memories and past emotions reaching out towards them, hidden and chained beneath the shadows. Forgotten and filled in with all the things that have happened since the revolution began, but they were there. And there voices were willing to be heard.

She gave them no advantage, though. Neither did Julian. Or at least that’s what she thought until he met her eyes and she saw the young man who’d held her hand by the tree down the forest near Bulacan. The one who'd smiled at her as she came walking down from the fields. The one whose hands held her shoulders from behind as she was cooking dinner in the Del Pilars.

For a while, he was there.

Her heart was numb, but… there was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel otherwise.

“I have to sleep.” She said, her voice faint. Her eyes never leaving his.

“Okay.” He said.

“I – “

“I’m not courting Dolores.” He suddenly interjected.

Sofia didn’t know what to say.

“I kept your ribbon.”

He kept the ribbon. _He kept the ribbon._ She tried not to feel swayed by those four words. But at that moment, it was as if they meant everything.

Sofia shifted her shoulder and felt the note bite her once more.

The note. Pressed against her.

She remembered who she was.

“I’m glad you did.” Sofia said plainly, smiling a decent smile. “But you’re a grown man, Julian. You don’t need to tell me who you are and are not courting. We’re no longer children. We don’t need to tell each other everything.” She looked down. "Just don't hurt her, whoever you're going to pursue. Nobody deserves that. Don't - don't fuck them over."

 _Not like what you did to me_. The words hung in the air, unspoken.

Even she thought her own words to be painful. She saw the flicker of doubt in Julian’s face. And then it was gone, and he was also smiling. “Of course.”

Sofia breathed out a silent exhale before inclining her head and heading towards her room.

Once the door was closed, she shut her eyes and flicked on the lock. Making sure all of her curtains were drawn in, Sofia pulled out the note and observed it in the darkness. The single lamp she had lit on her table showed her what she needed to know.

 

_Los bosque. Alas tres y media la tarde._

_\- Los cariño_

 

Forest. Three-thirty in the afternoon. That’s what the note said. But back when she was still in the Katipunan, they used to write decoy times in their letters in case it landed on enemy hands. The real time would be the one written, but eleven hours back.

That meant three-thirty in the afternoon was actually four in the morning.

And Los cariño, the sender. What did that mean again? Fondness? Sweetness? Sofia looked back on the context of Spanish words and tried to rustle through the many times this word was even used. 

And then, it dawned on her.

"Giliw." She whispered.

The note was sent by Julio Nakpil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am VERY sorry for the poor Spanish. I just looked the words up on Google Translate. Please correct me if I am ever wrong.  
> I am also sorry for any of the Felicidad Aguinaldo angst.  
> Also, the Katipunan time method was just something I made up.
> 
> Yes, Julio Nakpil will be in the next chapter.  
> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated!


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